Of course, her friend didn’t know how scared she’d been to get on stage. Or how much she hadn’t wanted to succeed. She hadn’t wanted to leave her home or her family, but she’d done it for him. He needed to see her get out, and so she’d gone off to Hollywood. She didn’t regret it, but what she’d wanted back then was just to be Liam’s girl.
“Well anyway, I guess I just thought it was some girlish fantasy, but now I don’t know if maybe it’s something more.”
“Now you’re wondering if it could be more and you don’t know how he feels at all?”
She nodded, and her eyes followed him around the rooftop, collecting cups and carrying them to the bar. “I know that we’re friends, and I can’t risk that. He doesn’t feel that way about me, I know it.”
“Are you sure?”
The last couple of weeks she’d started to believe maybe there was something between them. On the roof before the party she thought he might have been going to kiss her. She’d hoped he would.
Then tonight she was surprised and disappointed that he’d obviously been encouraging Zach to pursue her. Zach had told her as much, that Liam said if he was interested in Georgie he needed to step up, so she should expect to be hearing from him and soon.
“Yes, I am. Maybe it’s for the best,” she said on a sigh, not sure if she was trying to convince Rachel or herself. “And maybe what I’m feeling living with him is normal. I mean, I’ve been on my own so long that having someone to share my day and my home with feels so nice, it could just be that.”
Rachel patted her knee. “I doubt it, but you keep telling yourself that.”
When her friend stood to go and Georgie attempted to climb out of the beanbag, Rachel said, “Stay and relax, honey, you’ve earned it. Your food tonight was beyond amazing.”
Liam approached them. “Are you off? I’ll walk you down and see you get in a car safely.”
Rachel leaned down and kissed Georgie’s cheek. “Maybe what you said about being looked after is part of it because I could get used to being looked after like this too.”
“Don’t move, you, I’ll be back,” Liam said, pointing at Georgie.
“No problem. I can’t get up anyway,” she said with a smile, calling after Rachel. “See you Thursday.”
Rachel said her good-byes to Marnie and Mal, there was some definite chemistry there, not that Marnie would admit it. She was a tough nut to crack. Tapioca climbed in Georgie’s lap, and they both watched Liam head down the stairs behind Rachel. The dog looked almost as sad to see him go as Georgie was. She hadn’t felt that way when Zach left or Alvaro, and Liam would be back in only a few minutes.
“We’ve got it bad, girl,” she whispered to Tapioca, and there was nothing she could do about it. Liam didn’t like her that way, he never had, and she realized now that living with him was going to be the most exquisite form of torture ever.
Chapter 7
Given her schedule, it was hard for Liam to be one hundred percent certain that Georgie was avoiding him, but if he were a betting man, he’d take that bet. It was Thursday, and since the party on Saturday night, their paths had barely crossed. Sunday she’d gotten up early and vanished. When she got home later that night, she said she had been scoping out locations for future episodes. He would have believed that if she’d mentioned it at all in advance, like when they’d sat under the stars until the wee hours of the morning talking after the party wound down. She’d had plenty of opportunity then and she’d said nothing.
She had been in New Jersey overnight Monday and Tuesday, but Tuesday night when she’d gotten in, she’d claimed not to be hungry and headed straight to bed. It was very un-Georgie-like behavior. Georgie was always hungry.
Finally, last night she’d filmed at the house all day and left him plates of food for dinner. A delicious version of gumbo that was to die for, but she herself had been out on a date with Zach and not there to enjoy it with him. Apparently, Zach was taking her to an independent film she’d been longing to see. It annoyed him that Zach got to spend the night with Georgie when Liam didn’t, but he was partly responsible for that. He’d pushed Zach to make his move and the man had, so sadly that one was all on Liam.
Now it was Thursday and Liam was at his desk surrounded by paperwork wondering if he could crash the No Brides Club drinks and see Georgie. Of course, last time he’d promised to give her the space to hang with her friends, so he really couldn’t. The truth was he missed Georgie. He’d thought moving in with her would give him unfettered access but that wasn’t working out the way he’d planned it. Maybe his idea of pushing other guys at her wasn’t helping, and he could only hope that it worked out in the long-term.
He ran his fingers through his hair and let out a sigh.
“Problem?” Mal was leaning on the door frame at the entry to his office.
“Nothing I can’t handle.”
“Work or girl?” He gave his friend a dark look he hoped would silence him. “I know it is one or the other.”
“Girl, maybe. Again, I can handle it.”
“Of course, you can. You’re a lone wolf, I understand, but if you want someone to talk to, I’m here.”
Liam cocked an eyebrow. “Really?”
“I know that’s not how you and I have traditionally rolled because we’re all business and because you’ve been in another city. Mainly, though, that’s because you like it that way, you love the whole ‘man is an island’ thing. Me, not so much.”
“You want to braid my hair and discuss my feelings?” Liam quipped.
“I do have four sisters. I am an exceptional hair braider, but I’d rather go grab a beer and go talk about our feelings. Or take a run around the park or hit a batting cage or go bowling, and if your feelings come up, then I would also be happy to discuss them.”
Liam smiled. Mal was a good guy underneath all that bravado. Liam knew that, of course. He could count on one hand the number of people he trusted, and Mal was one of them. He wouldn’t have gone into business with a guy he didn’t trust.
“Thanks. I could use a beer.”
“Excellent and I know a bowling alley that’s calling my name.”
“You bowl?”
“I do a lot of things. While you’re busy mooning over Georgie let’s at least take our relationship to the next level and bowl.”
Liam shook his head and headed across the room to Mal before slapping his friend on the shoulder. “Do not make me regret this.”
An hour later, as they finished a game and a beer in the retro bowling alley, Liam didn’t regret it at all. Somehow Mal seemed to know half the people there, despite claiming not to be a regular, and he roped in a couple of old-timers to play with them. The older guys told about a thousand dad jokes, or what Liam knew to be dad jokes since he had no memory of his father ever joking. They laughed their way through the game, and he felt so much lighter than when he’d arrived.
“This has been fun,” Earl who sported a bushy beard and a unibrow announced, “but why aren’t you young fellas out chasing some skirt?”
“Well, Earl, we don’t call it chasing skirt here in the twenty-first century,” Mal informed him. “And my boy Liam is pining over a girl, so we’re here to strategize.”
“I’m not pining,” Liam said, knowing he sounded like a spoiled adolescent.
“And I haven’t seen any strategizing,” Bud chipped in. “What’s this girl like to do?”
“Cook, travel, read, sing.” Liam listed off her favorite things. “Everything.”
“Well, you need to find a way to get in on some of her interests. Do things together.”
Liam thought about that. Liam had always supported her singing, and they spent quite a bit of time on that topic already. He supposed he could try getting her to help him cook, that might work. He had enjoyed helping her with all the party preparation. He could find an excuse to travel with her, which would make him feel better about that Alvaro guy, but for now the cooking angle was a good place to start. And h
e knew just how to make it happen. Georgie’s mother was coming to town this weekend. He’d get her to help him.
Chapter 8
Liam was making pasta with Connie. Georgie had to go to a brief meeting about a new show she and Marnie were considering producing, and so Connie had decided she and Liam would make dinner. It wasn’t exactly how his learn-to-cook idea was meant to go, but he was sure Georgie would appreciate the gesture.
“That meal last night was heavenly, but we need something a little more rustic tonight,” she said as she went through the cabinets, pulling out ingredients. “And it will give us a chance to catch up.”
“Great.”
“Don’t sound so nervous. I won’t bring up your mama.”
Liam couldn’t help but laugh. The woman had always been able to read his mind, which had been a blessing and a curse throughout his life. Sometimes he wished her daughter was the same. Then he wouldn’t have to jump through all these hoops because she’d already know how he felt about her and they could get started with the long and happy life he had planned out for them.
He headed to the fridge and removed the ingredients she was instructing him to. “So how are you doing on your own, Connie? You seeing anyone?”
She let out a small laugh. “Hardly. I’m fine on my own.”
“You’re only fifty, that’s not even old.”
“You like what you see, huh?” She was playing with him of course.
“You’re a fine-looking woman with a huge heart. I don’t like to think of you being alone.”
“I could say the same to you.”
“You think I’m a fine-looking woman?”
She laughed at him. “You know what I mean.”
He did, of course, and he didn’t want to be alone either. “Well, I’m not alone. Right now, I have you and Georgie.”
She pursed her lips and made a hmmm noise as she placed her ingredients of flour and tomatoes and salt on the counter. He added eggs, potatoes, and parmesan cheese to the selection as he’d been instructed. “Why potatoes?”
“Gnocchi,” she replied as if that was obvious. She’d clearly forgotten he grew up living off cereal and boxed food and that he couldn’t cook. “Potato gnocchi with four-cheese sauce.”
It sounded like a heart attack on a plate, but what a way to go. “Great.”
Half an hour later they were making the dough and he was as relaxed as he’d been in a while. He was standing hip to hip with her, their hands were covered in flour, and he’d put on some thematic music in the form of Italian crooners, so Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin were keeping them company.
“This is nice.”
“It sure is.” She grinned up at him. Just at that moment, Georgie came in with Tapioca trailing behind.
“You two are cooking up trouble I see.” His girl looked tired. Connie had been right when she’d said so yesterday, and she looked even more exhausted now. After all, who worked on a Saturday?
“We’re calling it gnocchi, but you may be right.” He gave her a smile. “Good meeting?”
“Yep, it was for a dog whisper style of show. That’s why Tapioca tagged along.”
“She doesn’t need retraining.” He felt his brow crease.
“Apparently, she is spoiled rotten and has boundary issues.”
As the dog was lying flat on her back and he was rubbing her belly with his foot right there on the kitchen floor, he tried to answer with a straight face. “Ridiculous!”
She just shook her head and slid onto a barstool at the island. “Yes, maybe you need the training not the dog.”
“I’m house-trained and now learning to cook. Such a catch,” he said.
“Of course, you are, honey. Any girl who doesn’t snap you up has rocks in her head.” He couldn’t help but notice Connie was staring straight at her daughter as she said it. Both the dog and the mother had boundary issues, no doubt.
“Well anyway, we might make the show. Sorry I skipped out on you two.”
“We’ve been fine. We went for a walk in the park and hit the Museum of Natural History. It was fun.”
Connie had loved it, most of her frames of reference were the movie The Night at the Museum, but as Liam had never been before himself, they had a good time discovering it together.
“Oh, love it there.” Georgie gave a pout. “Now I’m bummed I missed out.”
“Next time,” her mother said as if placating a child. “Why don’t you go take a nice long bath, and when you’re done dinner will be ready.”
“Really? You don’t mind?”
“Shoo, be gone with you,” Liam teased. “You want me to bring you a wine?”
Her eyebrows shot up. “While I’m in the bath?”
“While you run the bath,” he corrected, though he didn’t hate the idea, but if he ever was naked with Georgie, it wouldn’t be while her mother was downstairs making dinner. “Go on, I’ll be up in five.”
He watched her practically crawl up the stairs. She was beyond tired. It was ridiculous.
“Your daughter is stubborn. She doesn’t know when to quit.”
“Said the pot to the kettle.” Hadn’t Georgie said that to him not so long ago?
“My life has balance,” he said, pouring Georgie a small glass of wine. He didn’t want her drowning up there.
“Sure, it does. Name five people you have a meaningful relationship with.”
“You, Georgie, Mal, and . . .” That was all he had, and even his relationship with Mal had only just morphed into meaningful. Connie just gave him the look, the one that said she had him nailed just right. “And that’s part of why we had that party last week. I’m in a new city, and I’m determined to be more involved in life.”
He put the wine on ice as Connie spoke and efficiently grated some cheese onto a wooden board. “That’s good. I’m pleased to hear it. I know you felt you had something to prove when you were starting out, and I’ve watched your hard work develop into something really impressive over the years, but what more do you need? Now it’s time for balance—for you and Georgie both. I’m hoping you can find that balance together.”
“Me too,” he said over his shoulder as he headed up to deliver the wine. The stairs in this place were keeping him fit with all the times a day he was going up and down to Georgie’s level and the roof. The invention of the StairMaster was suddenly seeming like genius to him.
Georgie’s bedroom door was open, and steam scented with citrus was wafting out from the bathroom. He followed his nose, and there she was with her back to him in a silky robe, her hair piled high on her head, running her hand through the bubbly water. What he wanted to do was lean in and kiss her just below her ear and maybe peel that robe off to reveal what was beneath. Instead, he stood there in silence committing the moment to memory. He had a thousand moments like this with Georgie, like snapshots of their life together. He didn’t need them printed in an album, although he had those too, but these ones were special. These were stolen moments he wanted to keep forever in his mind. They weren’t for sharing, they were just for him, for when he needed to feel less alone or even like a future together was a real possibility. He had started this practice before she’d moved to Hollywood. He’d known then that he couldn’t hold on to her, not until he’d made something of himself. He’d been dirt poor with nothing to offer her, so he’d taken care to remember what she had to offer him. A warm smile, an easy laugh, a squeeze of the hand, a furtive glance, and he had replayed them over time to motivate himself.
She was the end goal, and he was oh, so close.
He cleared his throat, and she turned to greet him.
“Your majesty,” he teased.
“Thank you.” She took the glass, but he let his hand linger over hers, maybe longer than necessary, and he looked into her eyes.
“You need to relax, Georgie.”
“You do know there’s nothing less relaxing than being told to relax, right?”
He let out a small laugh and withdrew his hand.
“Okay, that’s true. Enjoy your bath. We’ll be downstairs.”
“Thanks for looking after my mom.”
“We’re just sorry you missed out.”
“Me too.” She looked so sad. “I shouldn’t have taken the meeting, but Marnie was so excited and I didn’t want us to miss the opportunity.”
“Plus, you have a hard time saying no.”
“There is that.” She tilted her head to the side in agreement.
He closed the door behind him and lingered outside a moment. Until he heard the telltale sound of the water parting as her body entered it. Then he moved as fast as he could so that he didn’t just turn around and join her.
Georgie sunk into the suds and let out a sigh. Her eyes were closed, and her head leaned back on the rim of the bathtub. It was blissful.
Bone tired didn’t begin to describe how she felt. If someone had told her she was in her late sixties and not her late twenties, she’d have believed them in that moment. It was ridiculous and she knew it. She had enough money to never work a day in her life, and yet she was working crazy hours. Her mother was here, and she’d barely spent any time with her. Though she hated to admit it, the woman was right, her priorities were all out of whack.
When she’d left Hollywood, she’d felt that she needed to prove that she was more than a teen star, more than a pretty face, and worthy of respect. The producers of the show hadn’t respected her nor had her boyfriend, and she’d needed to prove them wrong.
She’d created her own show, she’d released two studio albums, and she was now producing more shows with another album planned. She’d done it, she’d shown everyone she was more than a pretty face or a manufactured product, and definitely more than some man’s arm candy, and yet it still didn’t feel like enough.
It would seem that she’d achieved what she set out to. So why was she still pushing herself to the point of exhaustion? Why was she missing the very things she most wanted to enjoy to go after more?
She didn’t have the answer lying there in the tub, but she needed to work it out. Something had to give, and if she was honest, something was missing.
No Time for Temptation: No Brides Club, Book 4 Page 8
